Deadly
by DeedeeSmith
Summary: Pride, envy, wrath, sloth, greed, gluttony, and lust. Snippets from the Winchester's history that prove that their sins are deadly.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: just a gimmick I came up with when I couldn't find one of those inflatable gorillas. 7 sins, 7 chapters, oh…it _will_ be DEADLY.**

**Pride**

_"The intelligent man who is proud of his intelligence is like the condemned man who is proud of his large cell."_

_Simone Weil_

_"Shut up, no one thinks you're that important" _

-_My Sister_

John was meticulous, he had planned everything. It was going to be easy too, a perfect way to initiate his youngest son into the world of hunting. The dark, heroic, and seriously screwed world that lurked as a small subculture without the knowledge of society. The Secret Police, that's what Dean had told Sammy…and today the kid got his badge, and possibly a TCBY when they were finished.

They pulled up to the rusted out garage at about 7:30 pm, it was dark, just dark enough that if Sammy wasn't a good three inches shorter he wouldn't be able to tell the eleven year old from his teenage brother. Dean was practically bubbling over with excitement, he had been giving his kid brother "tips" all day long about how to, quote, "bust ass" unquote, and Sammy was wide-eyed and slightly confused about just what was going on. John kept reminding his eldest that it was just a routine poltergeist, nothing to get all worked up about, and Dean nodded, his grin dissipating but the sparkle remaining in his eyes as he whispered tidbits of various stories about how he had vanquished dozens of ghosts just like this, and how all Sammy had to do was stay out of his way.

"You ready Sammy?" Dean whispered through the stale air to his little brother who was putting up a very brave front.

"I think so" Sam replied and Dean snorted setting the walking pace at a trot. They reached the door to the old body shop and John turned on his sons giving orders.

"Alright, we get in, perform the ritual, and get out, understand?" He said staring his oldest squarely in the eye, the subliminal message was clear, _no fucking around._ Dean nodded and Sam turned white, standing out as a sharp contrast to the deep navy night that enveloped them and their mark. "Good. Dean, Sammy is your responsibility; _nothing_ is to happen to him tonight." Dean smirked,

"Yes, Sir" he said practically pawing at the chance to get inside and show his kid brother just what he could do.

"Sammy, you got your gun?" Sam nodded cocking the rifle filled with rock salt and held it with a superior steady hand. "Good. Shoot if it comes near you." John said more then a little worry lacing his voice.

"Yes, Sir" Sam echoed and John smiled ruffling the boys hair,

"Alright boys, your job is to keep this thing as far away from me as possible while I carry out the ritual. Once it gets wind of what we're doing it's going to get pretty pissed off, so stand your ground and don't be scared." Dean almost laughed but seeing as his brother looked like he was going to make an unpleasant art display of his dinner he bit his tongue.

The door creaked open in the way that only haunted doors do and all three of the Winchesters stepped in. Almost immediately a tin can was flung at Dean's head, and hit him on the jaw.

"Oww, son of a bitch" he growled,

"Dean" John hissed, managing a feeble reprimand as his eldest shrugged his apology. Sam would have been shaking if he wasn't paralyzed, but Dean's rough hand on his shoulder urged him foreword and he found a pocket of bravery in his gut that allowed him to continue. John nodded to Dean as various nails and screws flew through the air at the men, this ghoul didn't pussy foot around. Dean crouched down and whispered in Sam's ear,

"Now Sammy, I know you are a little scared, so all you have to do is stand there with your gun and I'll take care of things" he said and Sam didn't have to be asked twice. Dean proceeded to mock the poltergeist in every way that he knew how, from stipulating about where the ghost's mother had been last night….doing what…with whom, to guessing the spirit's parents' marital state at the time of his birth. Dean dodged the wrenches and nails that were being thrown at him furiously like a game of dodge ball all the while making comments that garnered more then a few disapproving glares from his father. Eventually, the third corner of the shop was finished and the poltergeist stopped throwing things at Dean, it seemed to have given up on silencing its assaulter.

"Is that _it?_ Is that _all_ you've got?" Dean asked pretty sure that he was the best smack-talking ghost hunter this side of godknowswhere. Sam wasn't about to burst his bubble, even if it meant alerting him to the fact that an old oil drum full of some bile inducing substance was floating just above his head.

"Uh, Dean" Sam ventured,

"What Sammy?" Dean asked,

"I think that the poltergeist may have..." but Dean cut him off,

"May have what? Run away? Had it's feelings hurt?" . John finished the fourth corner at around that time and as expected the poltergeist let out a ghostly wail and was exterminated by way of large gushing wind whipping around the small enclosure. Dean laughed as it was finished but it was the poltergeist that got the last lsugh…so to speak. The oil drum that had been perched above Dean's head like the sword of Damocles turned over and covered the young hunter in contents too god awful to describe.

Sam fought very hard to keep a straight face as he put away his gun and watched as Dean tried to towel himself off and not throw up, at the same time.

"It's not funny" Dean hissed as they sat in the truck. Pale circles of exposed skin encircled his eyes as the rest of him was encrusted in some sort of brown substance that was drying fast. Dean ended up looking like mud-wrestling raccoon, which had just lost. In response Sammy burst out laughing, tears coming to his eyes and his sides aching from the effort. John refused to look at Dean, afraid that he would start laughing as well. All he could manage was a tight,

"No it's not" before letting out a chuckle of his own as he started the engine. Dean shot his father a glare who tried to cover up his laughter with a very fake sounding cough as they drove off. Needless to say the pretty blonde girl behind the TCBY counter was more then a little perplexed at Dean's condition. She took their orders and Dean, who was still sulking, tried to stomp off to one of the little tables. The girl called out after him with a slight bit of laughter in her voice.

"I'm sorry, you're going to have to sit outside" she said, and Dean's jaw almost hit the ground as Sam broke out into another fit of laughter.

"I guess they don't allow raccoons in" Sam choked out in between gasps for air, "huh, Dean? Haha, listen I'm very sorry about my brother…I kept telling him to take a shower but…" Sam's voice trailed off as he was racked with a fit of giggles. The three Winchesters squashed onto a broken down bench outside of the TCBY toasting Sammy's first successful hunt. Sam was practically crying he was laughing so hard, and John couldn't help but join in the laughter too. Dean on the other hand just crossed his arms and sunk down low in his seat.

"It's _not_ funny."


	2. Envy

**Envy**

_"You can't be envious and happy at the same time__"_

_-Frank Tyger _

The nauseating smell of Mac and cheese filled the somewhat spacious accommodations that the Winchesters had in Traverse City Michigan. Dean who had only been entrusted again to cook last year on his thirteenth birthday after the unfortunate accident involving a grease fire and poor Sammy's eyebrows. He hated the stuff, Kraft from the blue box with the picture of massive cheesy noodles just made him want to gag, but Sammy loved it and it was cheap. This was the third time this week that Dean had made Mac and cheese, but the last two times Sammy had eaten at his friend Kevin's house, eating casserole, or lasagna, or something else that a mother would make.

Dean dreaded the phone call that would inevitably come to let him know that Sammy was going to stay at Kevin's again. It's not that he didn't like Kevin or his family, it's just that they were so normal, so perfectly happy, the kind of family Dean wished Sammy could have. Dean was okay with their mountain man of a father and their nomadic style of life, it suited him and his warrior personality, but Sammy wanted something more, and although he tried to hide it Dean could see it in his big brown eyes.

John was out on a minor hunt, just your routine haunting, and he had left Dean in charge of Sam for the few days he was going to be gone. Dean took out the dishes, a blue one with some sort of fuzzy purple monster on it that they had gotten from McDonald's for Sammy, and a plain white one for himself. He set the table, just like a normal family, and put Mac and cheese on both plates, then he waited. Sammy's school was only about ten minutes away if you were walking, and had tiny ten year old legs and he had called earlier to ask if he could stay at Kevin's for a little while. Dean said it was alright but he should be home by six. It was now six thirty and there was no Sammy, Dean was about ready to get out and start looking for his brother when the phone on the wall rang. Dean sighed and picked it up,

"Hello?"

"Dean?" Sam sounded out of breath, like he had just run to the phone from the other room,

"Hey Sammy, you're late bro" Dean said trying not to sound too worried,

"Sorry I forgot to call, Kevin has Super Soakers and we got all wet and then his mom wouldn't let us come inside until we dried off a little because she had just washed the floors and so then we had to g-"

"Sammy?" Dean asked cutting the kid off mid-rant,

"Right, sorry, can I stay at Kevin's tonight for dinner?" Dean let out a little sigh that he was sure Sam couldn't hear,

"That's three nights this week kid, don't you think that Kevin's family is getting sick of your ugly mug?" Sam giggled on the other line,

"No…Kevin's mom said it was her pleasure, she said I was a sweet little boy. You'd like her Dean, she's really pretty."

"I'm sure I would, alright Sammy, you can stay but be home by eight okay? I can't have my kid brother walking the mean streets." Sam giggled and said a quick thanks before hanging up. The dial tone was deafening even after Dean had put the phone back in its place. He scooped away Sam's Mac and cheese and sat down at the table to eat by himself. At eight fifteen Sammy came home sleepy-eyed clutching a bag of chocolate chip cookies.

"They send you with a doggy bag?" Dean asked and Sam shook his head,

"No, I had some at Kevin's…these are for you. I told Kevin's mom that they were your favorite and she gave me some to give to you, I told you you'd like her." Dean smiled and took one cookie before putting the rest away for later.

"Hey Dean" Sam said after he was done brushing his teeth,

"Yeah?"

"Can we get Super Soakers?" The question caught Dean off guard and he didn't answer for a minute, "Kevin's got two just for himself, his baby sister is too young to use one so he gets to have two…but I'd share mine with you, you'd like them they're so much fun!" Sam was obviously excited about the toy but Dean knew that there was no chance in hell that their father was going to get them one.

"I don't think so Sammy" Dean said,

"But why?" That was the hardest question to answer and Sammy asked it all the time.

"Because those sorts of things are expensive and we don't have the money right now" Sam looked as if Dean had stepped on his soul right then and there but he quickly perked up again.

"Okay, then can we get Kevin's mom to cook for us?" Sam asked and Dean cringed. The Winchesters did not take charity,

"No, Sammy" Dean said and the look on his little brother's face was truly heart breaking,

"But why?" And there was that damn question again,

"Because she has to cook for her own family, she doesn't have time to cook for us." Sammy looked confused,

"Well, it's not fair" he said staring to sound angry, "Kevin gets to have two Super Soakers and a mom to cook for him, and take care of him, and I don't get either!"

"I know" Dean said feeling dangerously close to bitter himself, "but that's the breaks"

"Well our breaks are _lousy_" Sam said sticking out his bottom lip and Dean was almost brought to laughter,

"I know, it's not fair Sammy, but Dad tries his best" _I try my best._

"Well it still is lousy" Sam said marching out of the bathroom into the room he shared with Dean and falling into a disgruntled pile on the bed. Dean followed him hesitantly and sat down on his own bed, Sammy's words swirling around in his mind. He heard Sam mumble something and leaned closer to his brother's bed,

"What was that?" Dean asked and Sam turned to face him angry tears present on his porcelain face,

"I said I wish I were someone else!" He said and Dean was taken aback. Sam huffed and crawled under the covers his back to his brother. Dean looked at the back of his little brother's head and let out a sigh.

"I'm sorry" he said softly lying back and staring at the ceiling, images of his mother playing like a show for him on the back of his eyelids. A happy family that was ripped from him at an all too early age, a happy family that Sammy never had. It _wasn't _fair, if anyone deserved to have a happy family it was Sammy, if anyone deserved a Super Soaker it was the boy that had to handle real guns all of the time, but that just wasn't how it was. _These are the breaks….and they **are** lousy._


	3. Wrath

**A/N: I'm sorry for the long delay, _believe me_ it was not my choice. I'd explain but you probably wouldn't believe me anyway. **

**Wrath**

"_I'll have you spread-eagled on a wagon wheel" _

_-John Wayne _

"Who can tell me what an Insecta Coleoptera Coccinellidae is?" The question rang out in the classroom falling on nineteen pairs of deaf ears. Ms. Jones had been working with her eighth graders for about two months trying to relate to them the many wonders of the Kingdom Animalia. She was met with glazed eyes and less-then-enthused answers from everyone….well, almost.

"A ladybug" said the familiar voice in the second row. She nodded a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she continued.

"Alright, what about a tamiasciurus hudsonicus?" She asked and the boy opened his mouth almost right away but she was too quick for him this time, "anyone _besides_ Sam?" She asked her eyes searching the nineteen mouths in her room that hadn't spoken since September with a mixture of hope, and the knowledge that none of them had been paying attention. An awkward silence filled the room after her question, and she didn't miss the daggers that were shooting out of the bigger boy's eyes towards her best student. "Anyone? Anyone at all?" She asked eyebrows raised in expectation of the great wall of data she knew was out there in those faces….somewhere….probably….she hoped.

No one stirred and she was forced to reveal the answer herself, knowing that anyone who didn't already know the scientific name for the red squirrel wouldn't on tomorrow's test. The bell rang and the students filed out after about ten excruciating minutes of review. Sam skirted out of the room first, hoping to be long gone by the time that those not so well acquainted with the animal world caught up with him. No such luck. Two of the bigger boys, Andrew Sherwood, and Tom Hankley were on his tail in a flash. Sam used every dodging maneuver he had learned from his family to lose them in the crowd, and for awhile it seemed to work, but the bigger boys caught up to him by simply plowing through the crowd of people in the hallway like machines locked in on a target. They were just outside the middle school when Tom grabbed Sam by his collar.

"Hey, where you going, brainiac?" He asked and Andrew's lips curled into a malicious smile. Sam's eyes widened, he could out fight these guys in a heartbeat if he had a gun, a knife…hell, a stick would do, but unfortunately for him and his slight frame, nothing was available.

"Yeah, we've got some study questions for you, thought you might help us out….you know for the test tomorrow." Sam didn't say anything, he just stared them down with quicksilver in his eyes, hoping that his façade worked and they would back off.

"What?" Tom asked, "You won't shut up in class but out here with us you're keeping all of the answers to yourself?" Sam had a million little replies swimming around in his brain, all of which he knew would get the crap kicked out of him, so he remained silent.

"You know" Andrew started pinning him up against the broken bricks of the school's front, "you gettin' all of those awards and A's …you is the reason my moms thinks I'm stupid." Sam couldn't help it, _you is the reason my moms thinks I'm stupid?_

"Really, I _is_? Because you know, you seem like such a well rounded person" Sam said his voice dripping with sarcasm that was most likely mistaken for false flattery by the brutish boy. Andrew grinned at him, a grin that was a little lopsided and reminded Sam very much of the old man that lived in the apartment across from them who had about two teeth to his name. Andrew grabbed his shoulders roughly and pinned down his arms, easily overtaking the smaller boy, who wasn't really putting up a fight, and who even looked a little bored. Tom was the one who actually punched him in the stomach and the way Sam felt it he could have sworn that the son of a bitch took a running start. He fell to his knees the wind knocked out of him and starts spinning around his head. Andrew backed up and positioned his foot so he could get a good kick in the ribs in while Sam was down. Fortunately for Sam his foot never reached its target.

"Hey" an icy voice split the air around the bullies and they both turned in surprise, trying to hide their panic at being discovered by a teacher, or even the principal. They had oily excuses perched on their tongues for the authority figure, that they were sure would slip them out of this little problem. However, when they made eye contact with the speaker they knew that they had been seen by the worst possible person. Their words fell lamely back into their throats and all they could muster up was a faint choking noise as they backed away towards their fallen peer.

Sam couldn't see what was going on as he was currently trying to catch his breath face down in the grass, but he would know that voice anywhere.

"What the hell are you doing to my brother?" Dean Winchester's eyes were inflamed and Andrew and Tom found themselves frantically searching for any way out. The Winchester brothers had been at school in Franklin for a semester and a half and already Dean was a legend. He drove faster, played harder, and fought better then any boy in the high school. He had a charm and a smile that could get him out of any situation, and he could, and probably did, have any girl he wanted (which is another good reason for him to fight so well). No one ever saw him studying but he managed to pulled through with B's which seemed to confound even his teachers. And a whole slew of minor crimes in the school had been credited to him, with him never confirming or denying any of it, and never getting caught. Now Sam hadn't stood out as much as his older brother, being smaller and a much better student, he probably never got below a 98 in his life and the two bullies had either failed to notice the Winchester connection, or overlooked it as a coincidence; that was a _major_ mistake.

By this point Sam had gotten to his feet and was halfway through the sentence, _Dean, it's alright _when both boys were flung to the ground in one fluid motion. Dean had twisted both of their right arms behind their backs and was met with a chorus of disgusting crunches that signaled the breaking of bone.

"You okay Sammy?" Dean asked not looking up from his preythe anger still obvious in his voice as he squeezed the boy's wrists tighter in an iron grip.

"Yeah, it's okay Dean, you can let them go….I'm fine, they were just…." Sam's voice faltered as he tried to defend his assailants for some unknown reason.

"Dude, we didn't know he was your brother….we're sorry" Tom choked out, his voice finally returning to him. The rage in Dean's features did not subside as the miasma of anger clouded more heavily around his head, and he squeezed harder garnering a yelp of pain from Andrew who had until then been mute.

"Dean!" Sam nearly yelled grabbing his brother by the shoulder, "don't kill them." And the seriousness with which Sam uttered that phrase made both bullies' eyes bulge out of their skulls.

"Yeah man, don't kill us…we're sorry." Sam had no doubt in what his brother would do if he thought that Sam was in danger, and he didn't want Dean to have a criminal record on his account. A fire still burned behind Dean's eyes and if it weren't for Sam, well those bullies might never have walked again. Instead, Dean let them up and they both jumped to their feet and ran, clutching matching broken wrists. Watching them go the fire was extinguished in Dean's eyes and his attention was focused on his little brother once more.

"Did they hurt you?" He asked grabbing both of Sam's shoulders and looking him in the eye. Sam shrugged him off,

"Not as much as you hurt them" he said and Dean finally cracked a smile,

"C'mon" he said ushering Sam to the sidewalk and starting off towards their apartment building. They walked in silence for a bit until Sam looked up at his older brother with a smirk on his face.

"You know you'll probably get suspended, or something" he said and Dean shrugged,

"Probably" he said,

"Dad's gonna love that" he added and Dean bit his bottom lip,

"He'll understand." Sam nodded knowing that their father would probably be proud of Dean for protecting him, even if it did mean getting suspended.Silence drifted over them again andthe more Sam thought about it themore clouded his eyes appeared.

"I've never seen you like that before" he said quietly.

"Like what?" Dean asked throwing his brother a skeptical look,

"So…angry" Sam replied and once again Dean shrugged like breaking the wrists of two eighth graders was a daily occurrence,

"They were trying to hurt you" he said calmly no hint of the brotherly affection that Sam knew was there made it into his voice. "And it's my job to make sure _nothing _hurts you whether it is some nasty eighth graders or your run of the mill poltergeist." Sam actually laughed at that, letting the fact that his brother had just recited a sentence from T_he John Winchester Manual for a Dutiful Son_ go.

"Only in my family are bullies rare and poltergeists run of the mill." Sam finally said settling for the more innocuous subject of Winchester weirdness. Dean smiled and pushed his little brother teasingly.

"Yeah well, I'm getting some excellent training to be in the secret service, or a bouncer, or something, you know, in case the fraud business dries up" Dean said shaking his head, the remaining fury flying out of him, to his great relief. Sam grinned and studied his feet,

"You know you're not always going to be there to beat the crap out of whatever is after me" he said, his tone was light but Dean didn't miss the meaning.

"Alright, next time those assholes try to pull one over on you, I'll let you handle it all by yourself princess." Sam laughed as the images of Tom and Andrew's scared faces were painted across his vision,

"Something tells me that that was the last time they'll try to mess with me." Dean smiled as they rounded the corner and nodded,

"Well then, I've done my job."


End file.
